


Second Body's First Time

by DaylilyAntares



Series: Synth Mr.House and His Courier Boyfriend [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dinner dates, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, First Time, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Robert House is 5' 4", SORT OF medium burn. lots of buildup, Synth Mr. House, Teasing, Trans Male Character, and thats ok and sexy of him, discussion of sex and asexuality, his body's also imperfect considering he's like. at least mid-forties, i will be writing more of this. for suresies, nOBODY CAN STOP ME, trans author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:15:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28872933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaylilyAntares/pseuds/DaylilyAntares
Summary: Courier Hart's plan of traveling east and tracking down that elusive Institute, securing a synth body replicated using DNA and provided photos, dragging it back safely to New Vegas, and uploading the full extent of Mr. House's mind into it has finally come to fruition. It takes a while, but after some adjusting, Robert House decides he wants more, and then more, and then more. Hart is more than happy to wait patiently for him to expand his comfort zone.
Relationships: Courier/Mr. House (Fallout), Male Courier/Mr. House (Fallout)
Series: Synth Mr.House and His Courier Boyfriend [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2117412
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Second Body's First Time

**Author's Note:**

> I AM WRITING EXPLICIT COURIER x MR. HOUSE GAY SEX AND NOBODY CAN FUCKING STOP ME BABY!!!!!!! 
> 
> My Courier is trans and uses the terms cock and cunt for his junk. Also Mr. House is a-spec, and so is my Courier, and there's some minor discussion of their perspectives within the text about their relationship with attraction, sex, and romance in addition to very candid discussion of preferences/interests beforehand. homosex time
> 
> (if house is autistic coded because of his behaviors that's between me and god and my own autism)

"How's the meat body feeling?"

Robert House stands in front of the mirror in his freshly prepared bedroom, adjusting the sleeves on his pre-war suit jacket. It had been years and years since he's been able to dress like this, to walk, to feel, not trapped within a computer. He made sure he looked as young as he wanted to, how old he was when the bombs fell and how he portrayed his projected image on the computer- he had hardly aged properly without living it in his body anyway.

But thanks to Hart… He was whole, in a way he didn't know would feel this good. And in exchange? Well. Robert House hasn't been in charge of the Strip for a while now. It took a lot of convincing to even get that far, but he understood, after watching how the Strip and the rest of the Mojave had been changing thanks to Hart's humanitarian efforts, that it was for the best. He turns his head, and even that motion was novel to him. 

"Ah, it's you Courier. I think it's doing just fine."

"Mhm?"

Hart steps into the room from where he had leaned in the doorframe, arcing around to stand behind House, looking at them both in the mirror. Hart visibly smirks in the mirror, and it takes a moment of staring at his face to see why. The courier's eyes flick down, and the pre-war businessman realizes the amusement comes from the reinforced distinction between their heights. Indeed, the top of House's immaculately groomed head barely reaches where his nipples would be.

That isn't because House is incredibly short, but that he is only somewhat short while Hart is unreasonably tall. And fairly broad for that matter. His fairly unstained t-shirt is snug enough to his body that in the mirror House can see the mildly distracting swell of his pecs easily.

"Like what you see?"

His tendency for silent contemplation is often to his detriment in these scenarios. He was apparently caught looking.

"Reasonably so. I do look quite handsome, wouldn't you agree? My alma mater has really perfected their craft."

"I would agree."

Hart, as usual, shows little shame, visibly looking the pre-war businessman up and down in the mirror with a hungry shine behind his glasses. Or is it just the glasses? Either way. A hand almost lands on his shoulder but he moves quick enough to brush it away with the back of his.

"Don't ruin my suit, Courier. Are your hands clean?"

"Hmph. Clean enough."

House chuckles. Straightens his outfit again. 

"Why are you here?"

"Wanted to check up on you. See you. Not like you'd want to have anyone else come see you."

The way he smiles is just the same as his still image on that computer screen used to, and he can see Hart's mouth visibly curls up further at the corners.

"You're right about that, Courier. But there's more there."

Hart pouts slightly, eyes still turned up in his affection.

"You know I like it better when you call me Hart."

More of that perfected smile, gently adjusting his tie. 

"Maybe I'd rather not please you so much, lest you never give me any peace, hmm?"

"You don't mean that, do you? Come on sugar."

House doesn't move this time when a Mojave-warm hand runs over his shoulder and upper arm.

"I do. I had a feeling you came with an appetite."

Hart sighs, rolling his eyes, and leaning in, chest gently brushing the back of his head and long hair smelling softly of something sandy and warm, alive. So much of what House isn't. Or wasn't.

"Oh c'mon. Even if I did, There's no way I'd push anything on you."

House hums in affirmation, his smile a little less smug, but his eyes shine with something else.

"I would like to spend more time alone, today. But you may kiss me once."

He lifts a hand to tap his cheek. Hart grins, brows furrowing slightly seeing the teasing mischief, and sincerity in his gesture. The Courier hums, considering.

"Deal."

He leans lower and before House can stop him he has his arms around his waist, lifting him onto his tiptoes and pressing a purposefully long and squeaky kiss to his cheek. House makes an indignant sound, and adjusts his suit again once he's been set down, smudging a thumb over his cheek as if he left a mark.

"There was no need for that."

Hart only chuckles, pinching at his cheek where he kissed and getting his hand swatted away before heading back out the door, steps swaying and a pleased look on his face.

"It was just a kiss, old man. Suppose I'll see you later."

"Yes, if you wouldn't mind. I'd like to talk to you later tonight. Perhaps over dinner."

Hart grins, clicking his tongue.

"Not sick of me yet."

House turns enough to glance over his shoulder with a smirk.

 _"Yet,_ Courier."

Hart grins and disappears out of sight, that warm Mojave air vanishing with him, and the door being closed for privacy.

\------

More chaste kisses to the cheek continued for days after, over a week's worth, and Robert House had been a human (synthetic) person for hardly over two weeks. He'd been feeling less clumsy, more adjusted. He appreciated eating more after having stopped, the feeling of being able to sleep, of taking a hot or cold shower. On this particular night, he was eating across from the Courier, who he had been pleased to notice had fairly reasonable table manners for a post-war person.

House ate much slower than Hart- the Courier had learned to scoff down what he could when he could, at a moment's notice, and even his version of eating slowly and savoring his meal was quick by the newly-transferred synth's standards. House was finally finishing his meal, brought in from the Ultra-Luxe. As he insisted, Hart always got a first bite. He insisted it was for good reason, and House remembered how there had been that cannibalism "problem", at the place, and didn't question it. When it had occurred to him to ask, the Courier had stiffly said he couldn't actually remember why, he could tell the difference between human and not-human meat. 

"Courier."

"Call me Hart. What is it?"

"...Hart."

House carefully wipes his mouth and takes a sip of water, setting each of his utensils at the four o'clock position, pointing inwards on a diagonal. Hart waits patiently.

"I would like to kiss you again tonight. More than once."

Hart raises an eyebrow.

"Is that a proposition, Robert?"

The way he says his name makes a shiver of something crawl up his spine. 

"...Perhaps not as thoroughly as you may like. I mean nothing more than what I say, when I say I would like to kiss you."

Hart nods slowly.

"Oh, sure. Whatever you're comfortable with. I won't escalate further."

"Thank you Courier. Would you help with these dishes first? I would prefer to send them back clean, and it will give me time to digest."

Hart nods and gathers up their dishes.

"You can dry. Keep those pretty pre-war hands a little cleaner."

House chuckles. He was also somewhat unused to doing this for himself- it had been a while, before the war too. He had been incredibly wealthy, after all. He takes a towel in hand when they reach the proper sink.

"So, my hands are pretty?"

"All soft and pre-war. Even if your body's new, made just like the old, no need to simulate wear 'n tear on a pre-war hermit."

Hart hands a dish to House, who starts to dry it in slow, steady movements.

"I see. But you think my 'soft pre-war hands' are pretty?"

The Courier chuckles. 

"Never thought I'd hear that coming from you. So formal all the time, but I like that about you. You're a proper little weirdo."

House shakes his head as he slowly dries the first dish off and sets it aside, taking the next already washed dish in hand while the Courier scrubs the utensils with his own.

"That is a word for it. Not one usually said to my face. But you keep changing the subject."

"You know the answer, jackass."

The grin on the Courier's lips pleases him. He does know the answer. The Courier clearly did. Not to mention it seemed he had a taste for antiques, considering his on-and-off romance with the pre-war Mestizo ghoul. Eventually he had a feeling he'd have to meet the rest of the Courier's companions in person, but for now he was content to be alone, with Hart.

Once he had finished drying everything, while the Courier watched with relative impatience, House started to walk back to the table.

"Where are you going?"

"Come along. I want to kiss."

Hart follows, visibly perplexed, and trails behind him until House points at a chair nearby.

"Sit."

He does, still confused, but House steps in close and sits down, not astride, but very much _on_ the Courier's lap. His face flushes, and with carefully maintained dignity he sets his hands on Hart's heating face.

"May I kiss you?"

"Yeah." 

His voice is breathy then, and House quickly presses his lips to Hart's. The sensation is rather different than kissing on the cheek, and it sings through him, so he doesn't stop. He doesn't pull away to protest when those broad Mojave hands grip at him, slide over him and settle warm on his slimmer hips.

House is far less experienced than Hart, but finds himself leading anyway, no doubt of the Courier's own volition. He indulges, tasting the man's lips and tongue and the warm of the wasteland on it, dinner still pleasant enough on his breath. His lip is bitten and gently tugged, sucked on, mouth licked into, and eventually he pulls away for breath, eyes dark and heavy.

He catches his breath, hands sliding down to rest on the Courier's chest, muscle pliable and strong to the touch but he can squeeze and his fingers sink in a little, hardly seeming to bother the larger man. He seems to understand his rough hands have no place on his ass, only steadying his hips instead, but a second hand glides up his back to sink strong fingers into his hair. House makes a low pleased sound, and catches him in another kiss, eager, and he finds pleasure and arousal starting to curl around in his gut.

Hart does take the lead when he kisses the corner of House's mouth, trailing them across his cheek to behind his jaw, leaving a lingering warm kiss there before pulling away, and catching his lips again. When House feels he's getting too riled up he pulls away, hands on the Courier's chest, breathless. 

"Hart. I am… I don't feel-"

"We can stop."

House nods firmly, relieved, and pauses when a last, slow, tender kiss touches his lips and makes them hum with the affection of it, before those strong arms carefully set him on his feet. The power of that consent and the way he let him go could make a weaker man dizzy. House just smiles, pleased. 

"I think we should part ways for the night."

Hart nods. 

"One last kiss, perhaps?"

He taps his cheek again. 

The Courier breaks into a grin, and leans in to press a kiss to the selected spot.

"Always. See you later House."

The businessman nods, giving him a brief wave before heading off to his bedroom, leaving the Courier to show himself out.

\------

It became a somewhat frequent thing for Mr. House to climb into the Courier's lap and kissing him mindless before being gently helped up so he could wander away with a pleased look on his face. Eventually, House buzzes down to the Suite floor where Hart and sometimes his companions would stay.

"Courier?"

Hart hears it and gets up, almost jogging to the intercom and pressing the button, Boone and Cassidy glancing at each other in mutual, mild curiosity, from where Hart had abandoned his Caravan setup across from Cass temporarily. 

"I'm here, what is it House?"

"I would like to say this in person."

"You sure? If it's nothing big you can just say it here, I don't mind."

House audibly sighs, with a little buzz of static.

"I would like you to …join me for dinner tonight."

"Oh, sure."

"...Hm. How best to put this. I would also like to invite you to- partake in dessert."

"Huh?"

A short silence.

" _Dessert_ , Hart. I think you've been waiting for this for a while."

"...Oh. Understood sir."

"Sir? My my. I will see you tonight then, Courier."

The intercom halts with a buzz, and Hart straightens up, rubbing his hands over his face and fingers sliding under his glasses. His face is flushed warm and heat flickers in his gut. 

"...Fuck."

Cass audibly whistles, grinning from the other room.

"Wow, you getting some old man dick tonight Hart?"

The Courier crams his thumbs in his pockets and returns before thumping back into his chair, glancing over his Caravan game, face visibly pink.

"Oh shut up _Rose of Sharon_ , keep it to yourself."

Boone seems distinctly put off and uninterested, not saying anything, and Cass snorts, tossing back a swig of her moonshine.

"Oh please big man, you've been nursing a boner for him all along. Focus on the cards."

"Speaking of cards, where's that 6?"

Cass sighs ruefully and tosses it back onto the table, settling back in for another narrow loss to Hart while Boone watched critically. The next few rounds turn out better- the Courier was undeniably distracted.

\------

In the evening, the Courier has a carefully packed duffel bag in hand when he arrives for dinner. House is as perfectly dressed as usual, and seems unfazed when Hart sets it beside his chair.

"It's Ultra-Luxe, again. You would like to take your test?"

He nods, and moves close to cut himself a piece, before stopping. House had already done so, and had a fairly perfect, carefully cut cube on his fork held out at an easy distance. Waiting. House's eyes on him. He leans in, tucking his hair in behind his ear as he gets close. He opens his mouth, and takes it, pulling it off the fork in a slow tug. He chews it slowly and mulls over the texture, the taste. The buried knowledge of something deep in his bodily memory. Not human. He pulls away with a nod.

"Safe. not human."

"Thank you."

Hart takes his seat, and both of them tuck in to their dinner, with very little discussion until House speaks up.

"Courier,"

"Hm?"

"I wanted to ask a few things first, before dessert."

"Go ahead."

He chews a forkful of one of his more favored meal blends, a brahmin steak stew of his own definition with careful amounts of Instamash, other root vegetables and noodles.

"How do you prefer to engage in sex?"

Hart was not expecting that in its entirety. But he is isn't surprised at the formal phrasing.

"Depends on my partner. I'm going to assume you don't have a lot of experience with being… penetrated?"

House conversationally shakes his head as he continues eating unfazed. 

"None in this body, hardly any before. I was never quite interested in sex overall."

A slurping sound makes House want to sigh. At least it was quiet.

"Y'know, I heard about that from Raul. Just a bit, I think. A pre-war rag ran an article down where he was before the bombs, an old beau of yours. Said all you wanted to do with her was scan her brain and see her dressed up."

House doesn't respond for a moment, chewing both on his food and the thought.

"Hmm. I was never a fan of those magazines. That is… correct, however. I do wish it hadn't been spread however. I haven't historically been one to desire sexual touch."

"I was going to touch on that. Do you think you might be gay?"

House's manicured brows furrow slightly.

"Pardon?"

"I mean, obviously you can like women and be uninterested in sex. But it doesn't seem like you were into romance either. And you _do_ want to have dessert with me, right?" 

"Well, yes. I don't know if I would identity as a homosexual in particular. The terms of aromantic and asexual were thrown around in more niche circles, I know of, and I like those more. But, I can concede that I feel… far more interested, in dessert, when it comes to you."

"And by dessert we mean sex."

"Yes."

The two of them are quiet again as each take another bite. 

"But you do think this is gay, right?"

House doesn't immediately respond, taking another bite of his food, chewing and swallowing first.

"Courier Hart. You are a man, correct? And I am a man. You may be far less pre-war standard, but you are yet a man I am interested in. Poor manners notwithstanding."

Hart chuckles quietly, seemingly a touch vulnerable. 

"And you're already familiar with my body type. No problems with that?"

"None."

Hart hums, affirming, and they take some more time eating, the hum of the lights and the quiet rustle of the Courier's pants as his leg bounces under the table.

"Considering you've come with that bag, I assume the contents would be equipment?"

"Yes. Various kinds. But if you're unused to penetration then I'm more than happy to take you in. Most of this stuff will go unused. But I have lube."

House nods, before pausing.

"...Homemade? Pre-war?"

"Most pre-war stuff I've seen 's gone out of date. I made this stuff. It's healthy, sanitary. I've used it before."

House tilts his head slightly in thought with a sigh.

"It will have to do. I will simply take your word for it."

The Courier makes a 'mhm' sound, around a mouthful of food. He takes some extra time to shovel more into his mouth, as usual, quicker than House. When his mouth is empty again he speaks as he prepares another forkful.

"Seeing how you're not really practiced with this stuff, would you prefer I take charge?"

"In what way?"

"Well, I can still be the recipient and control the pace. And on top of that, I can decide when we do what, I guess. But I'd be checking with you all the way and if you start to feel comfortable taking over I'll let you."

"Sounds practical. That works for me."

The rest of dinner passes without fanfare, or much more discussion about dessert. When House asks for help with the dishes, Hart is quickly out of his chair, grabbing them up, and heading off to the sink leaving House to catch up.

"You seem rather excited, Courier. Impatient?"

"Maybe."

The Courier quickly scrubs the dishes clean, and rinses them off, taking the dish towel House has ready and drying them with hurried efficiency.

"Calm down. I'm not going anywhere."

"I've been daydreaming about this for like a week. Cut me some slack House."

The pre-war man just chuckles, watching him set the dishes and utensils aside, clean.

"Let's go then. Get your bag."

"Bedroom?"

"Bedroom."

The two return to the table for Hart to hastily grab his bag, and they head to House's bedroom. When they step inside, the businessman enters further into the room to turn a lamp on, glow warmer than the ceiling light would be. Hart sets the bag down next to the bed, glancing around the room to see the stack of books on a table off to the side in the other half of the quarters. 

"Reading a lot?"

"Indeed. So, Hart. I would like to kiss you first. Sit down."

The Courier sits on the end of the bed. Now they're about eye level. House really is much shorter than him… but then again the Courier is almost seven feet tall, so it's hardly his fault. Even in person, there's something big about such a short man. Something unique to him. There's a sense of nervous energy behind him, and he steps closer between the much taller man's parted knees, lifting a hand and brushing his long hair back, leans in, and kisses him.

It's warm, and Hart kisses him back, careful and gentle at first, slowly growing more heated. Warm calloused hands gently pull House closer, smoothing over his hips and sides, until he's lifted to sit in his lap as he seems to like. One of those hands wanders over his back, one steadying on his hip, as House let's Hart tongue at his lip, nibbling gently, speaking low and soft against his kisses.

"You may help me undress. Don't rush."

"Yessir."

The honorific is almost mocking, but it seems to please him, and those hands slowly unbutton his suit jacket, gently sliding it off of his shoulders and setting it aside on the bed. House tugs at his own tie gently, pulling it open before untying it and letting it hang loose over his shoulders. 

"Take your vest off."

Hart shrugs it off. quickly, letting it slip into the floor and only in one of his preferred snug t-shirts, and gently pulls on one end of House's tie, setting it on top of his suit. The businessman pushes off of his lap for a moment and takes his tie and jacket and sets them neatly aside, draped over the back of a chair, and slips off his shoes. Hart watches before hastily yanking off his boots and kicking them aside. 

"Robert."

House blinks, stepping back over. 

"Let me lay you down, please. I want to undress you and if you'd like, suck you off."

He pauses, thinking, and after a few moments, he nods. 

"You may."

Hart pulls him in and helps him onto the bed, having him lie back closer to the pillows. The Courier climbs onto the bed after him, kneeling between hesitantly spread legs and his much larger frame reinforces how much shorter he was. Those Mojave-warm hands slowly unbuttons House's shirt, button by button, teasing the fabric back over soft, pre-war skin, unmarred by scars, bites, roughness from radiation or harsh desert wind. Hart leans in to press a kiss between his collarbones, kissing down his sternum, rough cheek nuzzling against his chest.

House's breath catches in his throat, feeling warm, almost-rough lips trailing kisses down his chest. Hands slide down and untuck his shirt, pulling it open, and they run up his sides. House isn't particularly muscular, or slim, and his age is also taken into account. This body is past forty, and he's a little pudgy. But Hart likes it. He's found attraction in many different bodies, including the inhuman, horrific musculature of nightkin- though he doesn't talk about that. He squeezes the extra weight at his stomach, and the slightly uncomfortable noise House makes him look up.

"You 'kay?"

"...Yes, I must admit I'm a touch out of shape. It would have felt cheap to ask for my body to be sculpted other than I was, but… well, you can see."

"I sure can."

But Hart's voice is a low purr that House didn't expect when he says that, mouth pressing to the curve of one of his pecs, soft and enough to take a small handful of, kissing over it to the peak while his opposite hand grabs the other, cupping and squeezing gently, and the pre-war businessman grunts, quiet and pink faced.

"Hart…"

"I love it. You're perfect Robert."

He drags his tongue over his nipple and he shudders, unused to attention there, and he sucks on it, eyes alight behind his glasses before he pulls them off and pushes them aside, pulling away enough to murmur and kiss the curve of his chest just above.

"You can tell me to stop."

"It's… Different. I'll tell you to stop if I want to."

"Good."

Hart sucks his nipple back into his mouth eagerly, tongue flicking at the tip and gently massaging his chest, hearing the soft huff of sound from House, who moves a hand to slide through Hart's hair, stroking gently.

"I do hope you plan to do more with that mouth."

The Courier only hums, gently biting down to a half indignant breath from the man, before pulling off with a sucking kiss.

"Of course. But I'm going to have my fun with you first. I like your tits."

House's face flushes, avoiding his glance.

"...Must you say that?"

"Is it okay? Dunno what else to call them. I like 'em though, and even after my surgery I call mine that. The other words for them suck. I'll let you play with my tits too."

House sighs, still a little embarrassed about the whole thing, but swallows it down, and agrees.

"Fine. But please, don't be- such a degenerate."

He mutters the last part, and Hart only grins, almost mischievous, and presses twin handfuls of House's chest together, successfully showing some shallow cleavage to his delight, nuzzling his cheek against it eagerly.

"S'all I am, you know that Robert. Let me enjoy myself a little- Unless it's really something you mind."

A noncommittal mutter from House only makes Hart chuckle, thinking the man might be enjoying it a little. He licks a stripe between his tits to an indignant sound that could probably be called a squeak from the pre-war businessman, and another pleased laugh, before pinching both nipples between his fingers and twisting slightly, seeing House's brow furrow.

"Such pretty tits on you Robert, I could play with these all night."

He's pink and avoiding that lascivious grin, huffing softly and arching very slightly when he takes his unattended nipple in his mouth again, sucking and flicking at it as he rubs and tweaks the other, House sliding a hand back into his hair with a sigh. Once both of them are flushed and peaked, he gives each a parting flick and starts kissing down over the thin happy trail over his stomach, which has a similar pudge of fat that Hart seems to delight in, nuzzling his cheek into his gut. 

"So soft, so vulnerable. So pre-war…"

House only hums in resignation, carding fingers through that long hair.

"Your hair is almost pre-war like, you know. Rather soft for a desert-born courier, I would think. Thick, well maintained. I'd like to pull it."

Hart hums in affirmation, glancing up at House with challenging, delighted eyes from his place pressed against his stomach.

"Then pull, I like it."

House takes a grip of a large portion of the Courier's hair, tugging firmly to an audible hum of pleasure, eyes half lidded and smirk lopsided and teasing.

"Come on old man, you can be rougher. Ahh-"

He groans when House obligingly yanks his head back harder, brows pinched with pain-pleasure, still smiling.

"Fuck, just like that... How about we get you out of that shirt and these pants and I suck you off?"

House nods, almost impatient and fascinated with Hart's clear desire and explicit attraction towards his body,besides his brilliant mind, and Hart helps him slip out of the shirt, draping it over the side of the bed, and pulls open his belt, slowly unzipping them, and helping tug them down his slightly chubby thighs and slim calves and doing the same leaving in him socks- and _garters-_ and his boxers. He bites his lip as he smiles, hands roaming to squeeze the fat at his stomach and sides, down over his hips and hands dragging over his inner thighs, tracing the elastic of the sock garters and snapping it gently to make him twitch.

"Now those are sexy, leaving these on it you don't mind."

"That's... agreeable. Would you stop teasing?"

Hart mock-frowns, pouting. 

"Alright, well let me see what we've got, hm?"

He hooks his fingers over the elastic of House's boxers, looking up at him for approval, and the slight nod gives him the permission he wants, pulling them down and off, leaving the garters on. House seems a little embarrassed. He hasn't done this much before the war let alone since, and it's easier to watch than be touched, and he's avoided contemplating how Hart might feel about his body. A warm hand slides around his mostly-hard dick and he jerks, breathing in a huff. Hart seems pleased from the way his eyes light up. He isn't particularly impressive, or small either. Rather average and unremarkable by at least pre-war standards- House doesn't know about things now- but Hart seems rather happy.

"You look perfect."

The Courier leans in and laps at the head, taking it into his mouth and House almost groans, unused to the feeling, with one of those distracting, Mojave-warm hands cupping his balls. 

"Hhn, Hart-"

He only hums and takes more of him into his mouth, mouth hot and wet, bobbing his head lower until the tip brushes the velvet back of his throat. He grabs the back of his head, fingers sliding into his hair, and his hips twitch, with another groan from House. The Courier grabs his hips quickly, staring up at him as best he can to catch his eyes, encouragingly tugging at them in a rhythm as he bobs his head. House's face is visibly pink, and shifts his stance, starting to gently rock in place, pushing on his head in time. The first time Hart lets himself gag House's hips stutter, grip tightening in his hair painfully.

"Oh god- Oh-"

Hart swallows around him, humming appreciatively as he huffs through his nose, but House quickly tugs him off with a rough groan. 

"I was- I won't last like that."

Hart wipes his mouth with his hand, chuckling, and cups his balls and squeezes gently, eyes dark.

"Who says you have to? But I do want you in me. Maybe one day you might feel ready to lick my cunt, now that'll be fun. For now, I'll settle for riding you."

"Do you require assistance?"

The Courier smiles, tucking loose hair behind his ear.

"I had a feeling this would be our arrangement, so I readied myself a bit before I came up. I'll need to stretch myself out a little, but I've got it. Especially if you aren't used to it or comfortable with that yet."

House nods, relaxing back into the pillows propped up behind him with a sigh.

"In this situation, for once I will wholeheartedly encourage you to take control."

Hart grins, wide and pleased, and throws himself to the side to snatch lube out of his to-go bag before standing next to the bed.

"I better undress too, no matter how much I like seeing you bare without taking off a thing."

House raises an eyebrow, shifting onto his side slightly.

"Do you intend to put on a show?"

The Courier chuckles, shrugging, and pushing his hair back over his shoulders.

"Well, I'm no Gomorrah girl, but I might."

House nods, interested, and watches Hart shrug his vest off carelessly, before inching his shirt up, over the swell of his stomach and thick happy trail, pulling it up slowly to rest above his nipples, sliding his arms up and over his head to tug at the back of his shirt and pull it off, shedding it almost lazily. He slides his hands over his chest, one tugging open the buckle on his belt and slowly pulls it out of the loops, letting it clatter to the floor.

He unbuttons them and slowly slides them down and steps out of them, and his underwear soon follows, until he's finally bare. He slides a knee onto the bed to spread his legs slightly, and presses a hand between his legs, spreading the thick lips of his cunt further with two fingers and framing his cock between them, watching House, who watches his fingers and then the jutting length of his dick, face growing warmer. 

"What is it Robert, like what you see?"

The blushing man can't look up, drawn to the way Hart teasingly drags his fingertip over the tip of his dick, sensitive and twitching at the touch.

"I would have to say I do. This is… new to me."

"And to this body. But I'll make it good for you, I promise."

House chuckles weakly, finally dragging his eyes away and up over his body to his face.

"I don't doubt that."

"Good."

Hart climbs back onto the bed and manhandles House a little, moving his legs how he wants, and straddles his hips, pressing his cock against his stomach to sit behind it and slide forward enough, adjusting his posture, and slides his own cock against the underside of House's. He starts to gently, slowly grind against him, rolling his hips, and leans over House planting his hands on either side of him. 

"Come on House, you can touch me y'know."

House shudders with a soft, stifled whimper, and nods, rutting up against Hart, and he raises his hands hesitantly and sets them on his chest. The Courier beams, arching his back into the touch, eyes dark and shining.

"Go on, grab me. Told you to play with my tits."

House turns his hands to gently squeeze, molding them under his palms, head tipping back as Hart rubs the hot seam of his cunt up the slight curve of his cock, humming. 

"Maybe one day we can play rougher. If you think about it, that synth body of yours should be pretty strong. Maybe one day you could overpower me, for fun. Not for real, but y'know, have your way with me. I'm sure you've wanted to put me in my place before, hm?"

House nods slightly, and Hart makes a choked noise and grinds down harder when he tweaks his nipples between his fingers, a weak smile playing on his lips.

"Yes, that sounds interesting. I- am not much, for this, or so I thought- ahn- I'm certainly having a good time so far however."

The Courier nods, shifting his weight and his hands so he can keep rocking down against House, slick cunt sliding against him teasingly, and he opens the lube, scooping some of it onto his fingers. House distantly thinks it reminds him of Vaseline, before the finger disappears behind the other man and he starts fingering himself open again, pressing a lubed finger into his asshole, still shallowly grinding down on the older man's length.

"Mmm, I'll be ready to take you in a bit, just enjoy yourself."

He keeps working his finger in to the third knuckle with efficiency, soon being joined by a second, and occasionally jerks and muffles quiet sounds of pleasure more and more often as House figures out how best he likes his nipples toyed with, twisting and flicking at them just to hear those little whines as his hips gently buck up against his soaked cunt and swollen dick rubbing along his. Soon enough Hart breathlessly pulls his fingers out, and scoots back off of House's cock, before slicking him up and watching as he arches into his grip with a moan.

"Careful Robert. I want you to last."

House nods distractedly, eyes fixed on Hart's hand on his dick before he climbs over him again, and lines him up to press the tip to his fluttering hole.

"Are you ready?"

"Hah, yes, very much so."

"Say please?"

"Are you serious?"

Hart raises an eyebrow and guides him away, watching the man beneath him quickly arch up seeking his entrance and apologizing breathlessly.

"No, I will, I'm sorry- Please? I… need it. You, I need you."

The Courier grins, lines up again, and hums at how House flushes, having to admit to his desire.

"Alright old man, let's see how you handle this."

He presses until the head slips in, moaning behind closed lips as he sinks down onto his dick, sitting down in one smooth motion until he's fully sheathed inside. House shudders, eyes closing, and he arches back and grabs at Hart's muscular thighs, the snug, slicked heat clinging around his cock both foreign and divine. 

"How's that feel?"

"Oh _god_ , Courier…"

Hart only chuckles.

"Good. But I don't know if you'll last long."

He takes a few moments to adjust before starting to slowly, agonizingly, fuck himself on House's length, who groans, eyes fluttering open, and unsteady hands grope at his thighs.

"This is- I haven't felt anything like this in- Oh dear,"

Hart chuckles.

"I'll take care of you sugar, don't worry."

He starts to move faster, hips rolling as he grinds, hips always raising enough to slip more of House's dick out of him, and then back in, fucking himself shallowly on his length. He soon slides a hand down between his legs as he keeps moving, starting to stroke his dick slowly with a grin, watching House's chest rise and fall unsteadily with the stimulation of Hart's pulsing insides squeezing around him.

"Oh Hart, nnh- I don't think- I can last very long-"

Hart coos over him, smug and pleased as he rides him.

"Oh sweetheart, that's just fine. I know I'm a lot to handle, cum inside me when you're ready."

He shifts his stance and starts to move faster, bouncing on his cock with a low groan escaping smiling lips. House actually curses, brows furrowing, and gripping his thighs tightly even as his hands tremble, watching Hart jerk himself off as he rides him. He looks up when Hart slows, brows drawing together and carefully watching House for a moment.

"This isn't too much, right? You're okay?"

House chuckles weakly, nodding with a small smile and a warm look in his eyes.

"Come on, Courier. Going so soft on me?"

Hart smiles softly, lowering himself closer to the pre-war businessman, pressing their chests together, but keeping his weight balanced as not to crush him. House's breath catches as the pressure of his insides gently shifts as he moves.

"Robert, it's important that you enjoy yourself. Both of us should."

The man beneath him swallows and nods.

"Alright. I understand. Yes, I am fine, and enjoying this. We can keep going."

Hart's smile reaches his eyes, alight with approving affection. He nods, and stays closer this time, only lifting away a short distance, and starts to move again. House's breath shivers past his lips, quickly tasted and swallowed by Hart who catches his mouth in a long, lingering kiss, with short breaks for quick breaths. The tightening pressure in House's gut builds, coiled and intense, and he melts into the kisses with a whimper, shame spiking through him to hear himself, words soft and unsteady.

"I'm- I can't-"

"Cum inside me Robert, cum for me."

His hands scramble to shakily grab tight to his shoulders, a whining, broken moan forcing its way past his lips as his hips buck hard, spilling inside the Courier in hard spurts, tension in his body slowly seeping out, and he relaxes, trembling.

"God, Hart…"

"So good Robert, you did so good."

The Courier presses gentle kisses to his lips and cheeks, the tip of his nose and chin, settled and comfortable like a warm weighted blanket on top of his lover, who still holds onto him. House slowly comes back to himself, sighing, and presses his lips to Hart's cheek, murmuring.

"This was better than I thought. And I'm glad it's you with me."

Hart hums, kissing him gently back, responding in kind.

"I'm glad. You alright with it if I get myself off still on you?"

House hums back an affirmative, and the Courier lifts himself up again, starting to gently rock on his slowly softening cock and starts jerking himself off, head tipping to the side with a groan. He knows what he's doing, clearly, and it isn't long before his legs are shaking, breathlessly panting and rutting on the pre-war man's dick as he strokes his own throbbing cock, and a high whimper in his throat signals just how close he is. It inspires house to reach out and tug firmly on one of the Courier's nipples, and Hart jerks hard, moan loud and startled.

"Ah, Robert-! Again-"

He grabs the other, twisting both without being too harsh, and the man moans, arching and his insides pulse and squeeze around House's soft length, and he groans softly at the feeling, watching Hart shudder and gasp through his orgasm. He breathlessly laughs after his climax, smile wide and lazy.

"Fuck, that was good… You want me to get off of you?"

"Yes, thank you."

House makes a quiet sound when Hart slides off of him, flopping onto the bed beside him on his back, catching his breath.

"I hope that was good for you."

"Don't worry House, I had a good time. I liked it. Did you?"

House folds his hands over his stomach, looking at the ceiling.

"Yes… I'm not usually one for this sort of thing. I do- did- not often find anyone sexually attractive, or inspiring me to lust. You do, in a sort of… indirect way. I find your body pleasing to see and touch. And your sharp mind and acerbic wit refreshing, and attractive. But it's still… complex."

Hart hums softly, carefully shifting his hair comfortably and tucking his hands behind his head. 

"I get that. I have sex pretty often, but it isn't because everyone I see is just, _so_ desirable. I like sex more than people's bodies, if that makes sense. I get horny, I want to get off, so I find someone aesthetically pleasing to fuck. Mutual benefit. But I like sex because it's fun. It's intimate, I guess. Takes up time, and it can be really romantic- even if I struggle with that too, just a little. Performing romance is nice, but it takes a while to really feel something about someone."

"...Do you feel something for me?"

"Yeah, a lot. You're one of few for me."

"I think I may love you, Courier."

It's a little blunt, a little sudden. Hart blinks, turning to look at him quickly.

"I've never cared for anyone as much as I care about you. I've never desired anyone as much as I have you. No one has ever done this much for me, out of their own heart. Yes, my alma mater made this body, but it is you who brought me to life."

Hart's mouth hangs slightly open, and his eyes seem misty.

"Robert…"

He's quickly pulled into strong arms, against the firm muscle of that broad chest, cradling him close, and House slides his arms around the Courier, pressing his cheek between the twin swells of muscle.

"I love you too."

House silently holds onto him, warmth blooming in his chest, and they stay that way for a while, one of Hart's hands gently stroking his back.

"I'm gonna clean us up a bit. Alright?"

House nods, and lets him slip away, going to the bathroom to wash his hands, and dampens a towel after cleaning himself up, coming back to gently wipe House down, who shivers, watching him with a fond look. When he finally lays down beside him again, stretching out in all his scarred, fuzzy glory, he smiles impishly.

"Hey, remember how I said Raul mentioned that newspaper? And how you just wanted to see that beau of yours dress up nice and scan her brain?"

House sighs, turning to face him.

"Yes, what about it."

He brushes his hair back with a grin, head propped up in one hand and the other on his hip.

"Would you like it if I dressed up for you? Find some quality pre-war dresses, gowns, shoes. Lipstick even, dress up all pretty. Idea doesn't bother me at all, but I know I'd look damn good. dolled up, maybe even stockings or fishnets like some Gomorrah girls have-"

House has flushed a vivid near-red by now, and pushes on Hart's chest lightly, as if trying to shoving him.

"Be quiet, won't you? …You don't want another problem on your hands."

He catches the innuendo and laughs.

"So you would like that? I'd ride your dick in a nice dress, ruck up my pre-war skirt and let you fuck me over a table? Hm?"

House buries his burning face in Hart's chest, arms wrapping tightly around his torso. His voice is firm, almost grouchy.

"Shut up Courier. We can talk about it another time. Or indulge in it. Another time."

Hart beams, chuckling, and strokes a hand through House's mussed, formerly careful hair.

"Alright, sorry sugar."

He hmphs quietly, face between his tits.

"Now keep it down. I'd like to sleep with you tonight."

Hart's face brightens, pulling away enough to start tugging the sheets back and sliding both of them underneath. House sighs, content, looking back up at the Courier with a soft look and a small smile.

"Thank you, Hart."

Hart just grins, making sure his glasses are settled firmly on the end table, and clicking the lamp off plunging them both into nearly full darkness. House presses close to the mass of heat that is Hart, cheek nuzzling into his chest.

"Now, goodnight Courier."

The Courier grins, relaxing into the bed and embracing the pre-war man. 

"Goodnight Robert."

**Author's Note:**

> THESE BITCHES!!!!!! I AM SPECIAL INTERESTING!!!!
> 
> also the mentions about dresses are totally unrelated to the concept of crossdressing as a kink or anything. its just about the clothes and no "feminization" shit. because i don't vibe w/that. i will perhaps write the dress fic though but im also writing more of these as denoted by the new series equally as self indulgent as the other i have.
> 
> thank you for reading my gay trans fnv au sex!


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